


winners

by volna (seductrce)



Series: Kurodai week 2016, or: ways Sawamura sees Tetsu [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, chapter 25+ in the manga, i just really had to write SOMETHING so like ya, kurodaiweek2016, oh right wait im supposed to tell you what this is UHM, thats what this is, the first time they meet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6426436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seductrce/pseuds/volna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>remember that first nekoma/karasuno practice match bc hooo b o i, i do</p>
            </blockquote>





	winners

_Your limbs_  
_Are drawn with water colors_  
_You flow and I am watching and my eyes are stuck on you_  
_Where on earth are your damn knee pads, fool?_  
_With the way_  
_You blend into your wall of red_  
_Keep form for me_  
_You do, my hands are steady and my mind is stuck on you_  
_I want to see you defeated_  
_I lose_  
  
_Your hands_  
_Are drawn in ink too black_  
_You laugh, you promise_  
_I wonder, haven’t I lost?_  
_Time is an ugly concept_  
  
*

There is a certain kind of antagonism about Kuroo Tetsurou.  
Daichi can tell immediately: Even from afar, Kuroo seems like bad news. It’s the way he holds himself, Daichi decided later, lying in bed, with the clock showing 1 am and the moonlight filtering through, and the past day still brilliant in his mind, how he talks even (most definitely it wasn’t his hair, though, that was for sure) (what on earth WAS that hair, Daichi did not understand).  
“Karasuno”, Kuroo says quietly, when they line up and grins in a way that makes a string in Daichis neck pull tight like a bow. He watches Kuroo with suppressed curiosity; suddenly, and expertly hidden, very excited for whatever this team he knows nothing about will put them through.  
He wants to say something in return, something more witty than just “Nekoma”, but in that moment Hinata screams out loud and the tension is broken, more or less.  
“Great your opponents!”, Daichi remembers his duties then, and they bow for each other like is manner, wish a good game. He’s taller than me, is what Daichi thinks with his nose facing the pavement, and that, of everything, agitates him the most.  
  
Daichi enters the gym hall with his bag strap across his chest and his team mates lost somewhere from the entrance gate to the shiny floors. It’s a nice big hall, airy with high ceilings, and the linoleum smells that certain way, squeaks under his shoes.  
There’s no one there with him yet, Daichi thinks, takes a moment and inhales deeply. With the exhale he feels a presence beside him, maybe it’s his shadow or maybe it’s his smell but Daichi is sure and it turns out just like that: Kuroo stands next to him with an angelic grin on his face and a height advantage that should be illegal. At least that’s what Daichi thinks. He also thinks, to his surprise, that red is a good color for Kuroo.  
Daichi’s hand moves out before his mind has had the chance to catch up and Kuroo grasps it with a weight behind it, like he means the handshake more than his words.  
“I’m looking forward to our match today”, he beams, and Daichi wants to laugh - it sounds so fake - but doesn’t. He smiles back like a maniac, he repeats Kuroo’s words, his hand grips Kuroo’s a tad tighter for a moment and now he finally understands: Kuroo Tetsurou is the cunning type.  
His honeyed voice, his sweet sweet smiles, it’s all part of the act. Good thing Daichi can play that game.  
He’s not sure you can fake a hand’s warmth though. But maybe Kuroo was sly enough for even that.  
As their teams fill in the air changes quality. Everything is dense now, like pork bun stuffing, everything is loud, but all Daichi can see is Kuroo’s face and all he knows is how badly he wants to see him lose.  
“Fated rivals”, both Ukai sr. and his grandson had called them, Nekoma and Karasuno, and Daichi thinks he finally understands why. As Kuroo lets go of his hand it feels like a loss. And Daichi wants it to be the last one of the day.  
“Let’s go”, he yells, turning towards the court, and next to him, Kuroo does the same.  
  
*  
Nekoma High, Daichi learns, is a team to be reckoned with. Blood red they are and like blood they flow; he has never seen a team quite as flexible or agile as them, and now the cat analogy, as ridiculous as it seemed, also makes sense.  
During the game Daichi finds himself far from center of focus every so often; his miraculous first year duo manage to confuse well enough and display themselves as the promising sun and stars that they are. They claim the spotlight and Daichi is content with that.  
Blossoming, healthy rivalries begin to form before his eyes: Nekoma’s setter, a boy much shorter than Kuroo and much more blond, too, seems to focus on Kageyama, on Hinata, on Tsukishima, even and it is interesting: at first, the setter boy didn’t look all too promising to Daichi, not even close to the provocative overflow of talent Kageyama shows, but the entirety of Nekoma’s plays seem to circle around him in a way Karasuno’s plays didn’t yet connect: Kageyama’s style was very straight-forward still, very point-in-point, very precise and beautifully executed and, after the initial shock of facing such raw skill, easy to read.  
Daichi, to his surprise, finds himself searching for a rivalry of his own, a thrill, he tells himself, a shot of adrenaline and when his eyes cross Kuroo’s for an uncounted time, to his even bigger surprise, he finds Kuroo looking back at him; too often, it is, to be coincidental, too purposeful the stares Daichi at times even ignores.  
  
It stings, then, when after the lead Karasuno managed to uphold all through the first half, Kuroo, of all people, spikes a ball between Daichi himself and Noya and evens their score to an 18-18 that hurts more than expected: Daichi wants to win this game with more than just a thirst for it, with more than his duty as captain and more than a player of a team; Hinata’s following spike is a one-touch by Nekoma’s incredible libero and Daichi’s teeth are gritted in his encouraging words.  
“Don’t mind that”, he tells them, “We got this. Keep pushing. Let’s win!”  
  
*  
They fight, they truly do. A tall boy looking like a puppy, who has the jump of Hinata and his good mood, too, is the one to catch up to Hinata first: never has a quick been blocked before and their first set ends with 25-22 in Nekoma’s favor.  
Kuroo’s bangs are sweaty, Kuroo’s grin is hideous: he spares Daichi one and leaves to grab his bottle. Something about him rubs Daichi the wrong way.  
  
Hinata’s spikes, as it turns out, aren’t infallible; Daichi does his best to recover the blocks Nekoma sends their way and for a few moments he worries if Hinata will be okay: he can feel Suga thinking the same on the side lines - but the look in Hinata’s eyes kills all doubt and most of Nekoma loses composure briefly. Daichi sees why. A spirit as raging as Shouyou’s, in a body so different from what you’d expect on a volleyball court… His intensity was scary, at times, and absolutely glorious.  
A thrill runs through them, both sides, and again the air changes to something more. A storm of lightning, a mass of energy boiled down in a single sentence: “One more time”, Hinata demands, unknown authority playing strings in his voice, and Daichi can’t help but smile. Hell, he loves this sport.  
  
*  
The evolution his team went through in one single match is mind-blowing, Daichi later thought, as shivers kept running down his spine just thinking of it. Hinata and Kageyama easily developed the most but there were moments when Daichi himself felt his body move before the thought of it, the gratefulness in Hinata’s voice as he called out “Captain” worth every sore muscle from that day.  
He wouldn’t call his impact insignificant, but he was grateful, so grateful, for the chance Nekoma gave to his team, to his first year-duo, to grow.  
Both their teams showed claws, both wanting to win more than anything, and if there was one thing Daichi was truly afraid of, thinking back, it was the way Kuroo watched the game unfold: there was an edge to him that caused Daichi to pause now and then, to stop, to stare all the way across the field and make sure Kuroo knew they would never give up. Winning was the only option.  
  
*  
Nekoma’s count is at 18 again when Kuroo moves into the van guard. That is when Daichi learns the true value of Nekoma’s team. They were utterly and completely unpredictable.  
Daichi shoots a glare more than once to the guy right across the net: he has to look up, and hates it. He is made a fool of, and he hates it more.  
“Try quicker next time”, Kuroo grins after scoring and Daichi, despite knowing better, wants to punch him in the face.  
Nekoma, in some miraculous way, keeps scoring, keeps receiving Karasuno’s spikes, and then, Kuroo shows Daichi something that glues his feet to the court. He doesn’t even jump in time to block, he just stares: somehow Kuroo manages to feint……a feint.  
“Personal time difference attack” that move is called. Daichi calls it cheating on Kuroo’s part. He hates the fact that Kuroo scores. He loves the move so much it hurts. He actually won’t stop seeing it behind his eyelids for days later: the stop, almost as if Kuroo was focusing on prey, baffling Asahi and Tsukishima single-handedly, and then: a jump, so fluent it seemed like floating.  
“Pretty clever”, Ukai later called it, when they revised the match. “Pretty Kuroo-like”, Daichi thought to himself, and clenched his fists, and rolled over in bed, hating the fact that it was night time, hating the fact that he couldn’t smash balls against walls in gyms at night, hating the fact that the image of Kuroo grinning after scoring that beautiful point wouldn’t let him fall asleep.  
  
The match is almost over, when Daichi scores a point that makes him feel better about being a few behind. He is incredibly pumped by that time, his whole team is burning up around him, nobody is even close to giving up, not with a sight like that before them, not with that sliver of a chance to win the match.  
It would be much later, in fact, that Daichi would realize that they had treated it like an official one. Practice or final of Nationals: nothing would have changed that time, in neither team’s resolve.  
  
*  
The last point Nekoma scored was the winning one and silently, Daichi admitted, by now, he was okay with losing that one. They were not on one level yet, Nekoma was the stronger team and even though Kuroo would not agree, he had been the better captain. Captaincy meant responsibility, it meant taking risks for your team and pushing through them, it meant being the most stable presence on your side of the court and it meant maximizing value. And that, truly, was what Daichi had lacked still, back then, the ability to bring them together as a whole.  
  
*  
When Hinata demands one more game, Daichi agrees with his passion whole-heartedly. After the third, they still lost. Daichi has never felt as alright about losing.  
  
*  
Nekomata-san’s words were still stuck in the back of Daichi’s head sometimes.  
Likely it was since all he had told them about, the problems he had showcased, the potential he had envisioned, the future he had promised…..it had all come true.  
“Let’s meet again at Nationals” had sounded like a dream back then. Falling in love with Nekoma the way Karasuno had, something about it had a ring of destiny to it, looking back….“fated rivals” sure was close.  
  
Kuroo sometimes called them fate, too, and Daichi never disagreed.  
How could he, with a string of red so clearly spun throughout it all.  
  
*  
The last thing Daichi expects of that day is the feeling of something horribly close to disappointment when Kuroo beams at him again as the sun is setting and the gym is closed and Nekoma has to make their way home.  
They shake hands like before and yet nothing is like before.  
Kuroo almost crushes his fingers.  
Daichi crushes back.

Somehow, the uncertainty is gone.  
Kuroo’s hands are warm.  
Daichi promises, next time he won’t lose.  
  
Somehow, absolutely out of reach for Daichi to understand, his hand ends up closing around a piece of paper. He holds onto it without noticing when waving goodbye. He holds onto it on their way home. He notices it when emptying his pockets that night, pulling out some finger tape and some change and a crumpled torn piece of paper with a phone number on it. And a cat drawn next to it. And a message.  "Text me", it says and Daichi’s ears go tangibly hot very, very suddenly.  
  
He manages not to until almost midnight. Some twenty minutes past eleven he types the number into the receiver bar. Some ten minutes after that he types a single word.  
“Kuroo?”, is all the text says. He waits for another quarter hour to send it. What on earth is he so nervous about?  
A few moments after hitting send, Daichi gets an answer.  
“Jesus, Sawamura, you keep them waiting, dont you?”  
  
Things change after that.

**Author's Note:**

> ?????????????? idk  
>  i have like three prompts finished and four at 70% working stage, so we'll see about those  
> anyway  
> just needed to. write. something.


End file.
